


Zombie

by Hatterized



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Broken Rick, Guilt, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 20:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16605272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatterized/pseuds/Hatterized
Summary: After Negan takes over, Rick can't find the strength to get off his knees.





	Zombie

**Author's Note:**

> Idk if I should tag this as dubcon or not. That wasn't really the intention but I guess it could be taken that way? I guess consider this the warning.

It got bad.

He didn’t talk about it. What was there to say? It was all out in the open, aired like dirty laundry among everyone in Alexandria.

_Got them cornered._

_Just sat there on his fucking knees while Abraham and Glenn were killed in front of him. While Glenn was killed in front of his pregnant wife._

_Let Daryl be taken. Who knows if he’s still alive?_

_He would have cut his own son’s arm off. He would have done it._

_It should have been him._

He didn’t disagree.

Maggie and Sasha were gone, recovering at the Hilltop. Rosita didn’t look his way anymore. Spencer spat in his direction, and Rick had a feeling that he may be angling to take Alexandria over for himself.

He didn’t care anymore. What did it matter? His leadership was nothing, his name mud. His own son wouldn’t talk to him anymore.

Carl and Judith were the only things that kept him alive and moving, and Carl hated him. Hated his weakness, his deference to another man. It reminded Rick of how he’d been after the prison fell- angry, withdrawn, taking all of his fury out on his father, because he was the one that failed.

Carl’s room was always empty now. At first, Rick tried to tell him to stay, tried to talk it out. It became rapidly and abundantly clear he held no authority with his son anymore. A few days later, Carl had packed a small bag of clothes and comics and taken up residence in the empty room at Rosita, Tara, and Eugene’s house.

Michonne had moved back into her old room. That had probably been the last straw for Carl, because the next day, he’d left.

She had tried. More than anyone, she had tried, but there was no rallying him.

He’d done the same thing he did with Lori- pushed her away. Clamped his lips together and stayed silent even when she begged him to speak, to talk to her, to cry or get angry to do something, _anything_.  

The issue was that there wasn’t anything left _in_ him, and once she saw that, it rattled her to her core.

_You’re not acting like the man I fell in love with. This isn’t you, Rick. I know you. You don’t stay down like this._

But he did. He never had before, but he did now. The weight of it was immense, and sometimes on the rare nights that he was able to fall asleep, he woke shaking and sweating with tears hot and salty on his cheeks, remembering the way they’d been helpless, surrounded.

_I did this to us._

Every week Negan pushed a little closer and Rick didn’t have the strength to fight him.

Being punished by Negan- it was the only thing that felt right anymore. That heavy hand on the small of his back shoving him forward, a sharp slap across the face when he didn’t look Negan directly in the eye while he was speaking, a hand around his throat and hot breath on his neck.

Negan seemed to adore it. Every slip-up by Rick gave him an excuse to encroach and humiliate.

When he discovered that Rick had been hiding Judith from him, he bent him over the kitchen countertop. Held him there by the back of his neck while he shouted. It didn’t matter- Judith was already up from her nap.

_You do not keep secrets from me, Rick._

Once, Rick made the mistake of asking about Daryl right as Negan was leaving Alexandria. Negan’s fingers dug into his cheeks, leather on stubbled skin. A crowd of Alexandrians watched as he was berated. When Negan was done, he tossed Rick aside like the butt of a cigarette to be ground into the dirt.

When Rick had dragged himself out of the dust, he’d caught a couple of satisfied smirks from the people watching.

* * *

Negan adored just how _broken_ Rick was. There was nothing more delicious than a proud man forced to his knees.

Sometimes he got nasty about it, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d have said that Rick _liked_ it. He started looking for excuses to get closer, push the limits.

Rick looked at him funny and he got shoved up against the wall, chest pressed into plaster and Negan’s weight bearing down on him. He wondered if Rick could feel the beginning of his erection pressing against his ass.

Rick tried to walk ahead of him, Negan grabbed him by the hair, by the beltloops, by the back of his shirt so hard that some of the buttons popped and rolled away into the grass.

Rick greeted him at the gate one week right as they were pulling up, and it was clear that he’d just gotten back from scavenging, because he was filthy, smeared with dirt and reeking of sweat.

Negan shoved him ahead with the fun end of Lucille pressed to the base of his spine, the barbs catching in the worn blue denim of his shirt. When they got to Rick’s house, Negan stood in the bathroom and Rick blinked dumbly.

“Get in the fucking shower.”

When he didn’t immediately understand, Negan _made_ him. Undid his belt and tossed it aside. “Did you fucking hear me, Rick?”

There were purple, bruise-like circled beneath Rick’s eyes, but Negan wasn’t looking at his face as he stripped in front of him, clothes shucked aside thoughtlessly. Naked and vulnerable, Rick didn’t even bother to cover himself.

Negan watched the whole time as he scrubbed himself clean.

* * *

The real issue was that Rick didn’t care what happened to him anymore.

As a result, Negan could sense it, and of _course_ he took advantage, because Rick wouldn’t care if he did.

“How long’s it been, Rick? I know the samurai chick isn’t fucking you anymore.” Rick didn’t even flinch at the mention of Michonne- she'd deserved better than him, anyway. “You’re all empty inside, aren’t you?” He taunted, and somehow, he hit the nail on the head.

Negan bent him over the bed, and Rick let him.

“ _But_ _not for long_ ,” Negan singsonged delightedly.

 _It doesn’t matter_ , he thought as Negan pulled his jeans and underwear down to his ankles. The man behind him whistled and rubbed large hands over Rick’s bare ass.

“What a fucking peach.”

The soft touch turned to pain in a split second when Negan’s palm cracked against the vulnerable flesh.

“Ought to punish you. Spank your ass red until you can’t fucking sit right.” Rick just breathed through the sting as Negan kept striking him. “You’d like that, though, wouldn’t you? Fucking whore."

“ _Yes_ ,” Rick gasped out in response to all of it- the pain and the question and the degrading words thrown his way. It finally felt like what he deserved.

It didn't hurt when Negan fucked him with lube-slick fingers, and Rick was almost disappointed until he felt Negan’s large hands on his ass, spreading him.

“Look at that. All open and ready to go for me.”

The initial inward push burned, and Negan’s words still hung heavy in the air to make him feel even more ashamed of what was happening.

The burn faded away after a minute, but Negan made up for it by fucking him _hard_. Rick could only lie there and take it as the other man’s fingers dug into his hips, pulling him back onto his cock with each brutal thrust.

He wanted to be bruised and sore by the time this was over.

“Ha- _harder_.”

It was the only request he could give that Negan would obey. The smack of bare skin on skin and the wet sound of Negan’s cock fucking into Rick filled his ears.

“Ought to do this out there in front of everyone. Let them know that I really fucking mean it when I say you’re my bitch.”

Rick didn’t care whether or not he came, but Negan did- it was a point of pride. He pulled Rick’s hips up to better fuck into his prostate, fisted the length of his cock until Rick was hard as steel beneath his fingertips.

“You’re gonna come for me.”

Rick did- hard and violent, the pleasure nearly painful as Negan continued to fuck into his oversensitive body. It all made sense, it all felt right to him.

Negan coming inside of him felt right, too. The wet drip of the other man’s come out of his sore opening and down his bruised thighs felt like justice served.

Claimed. He felt claimed.

“Same time next week, Rick?” Negan taunted as he redressed. They both knew it would happen again, just like they both knew they weren’t ever going to talk about it.

Negan parted with a kiss on the neck, and when Rick forced himself to look into the mirror later that evening, he was marked in red.

**Author's Note:**

> is the title less cliche if it's a song reference or does that make it worse lmao


End file.
